


The Next Generation

by how_did_i_get_here



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter Next Generation, Multi, Next Generation, Next-Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 10:25:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/how_did_i_get_here/pseuds/how_did_i_get_here
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We know the story of Harry and his friends, but what about the children? What about the eight others who went on to Hogwarts after them? Theirs is a story not yet told.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Next Generation

**Author's Note:**

> I did this with no recognition of the truths of the novel, whether that be ages, sexualities, or any personality types mentioned. It's my creation-ish thingy. This note is mostly about the ages. I realize none of them are the correct amount of years apart. I don't really care

The scar hadn’t pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well. At least in that sense. It was his heart that pained him now. He yearned for the adventures he knew his children would have, the friends they would make for life, the loves they would have and lose. But he was beyond that. It was his children’s turn to find the Stone, to open the Chamber, to free the Prisoner, to earn the Goblet, to fight in the Army, to learn from the Prince, to find the Hallows. And he needed to give them their chance.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The Hogwarts express was like a red, magical bullet flying through space and time to young Hugo Weasley. It was his first year on the Express, and his eyes were opened, his life given a new door to unlock. He was ecstatic. He was fascinated by the children running up and down the train corridor chasing toads and cats, even the occasional owl. It was all a new adventure he was ready to take on. He was ready for anything. He had more confidence in himself than anyone in the family had ever seen, except, maybe, for his Uncle George. He was so passionate about everything, so ready to take on the world. He was a blank page waiting for the ink to fly onto him and make words. He would then change those words to suit himself. Because he was the writer of his own story. Gryffindor.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Young Lily Potter was a second-year girl full of spunk and energy. She flew up and down the corridor, opening door after door, greeting her myriad of friends. The professors had thought of her as a bit of a favorite the past year for precisely the reason of her immense energy and perpetual cheerfulness. You could not help but smile every time she came in the room, and because of this, everyone just seemed to love her the second they laid eyes on her. She was absolutely lovely and made sure she made everyone feel as good as she seemed to always feel. It was like she had a bucket full of smiles, and whenever she would see someone with a frown, she would take a smile out of her bucket and slap it on their face. Hufflepuff.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Rose Weasley was a shy, though almost offensively pretty girl. She was a third year and was the crush of nearly every boy in the entire year. She was beautiful, and what was shocking about her was how little she seemed to know or care about that. She was smart, so incredibly smart. Genius. She spent her days in the library, almost always alone, except when accompanied by her boyfriend, Scorpius. He was almost all she took pride in, except for her schoolwork, of course. She took such pride in her schoolwork. She was so intent on living up to her mother’s image that she worked harder than she ever thought she could every day. What she didn’t know, however, was that her brilliance outshined even that of her mother’s. Ravenclaw.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Scorpius Malfoy, a third year, was boisterous, though kind, loud, though quiet, exuberant, yet somehow very reserved at the same time. He was indescribable, and he was loved for just that. Of course, his family name carried weight that he did his best to shrug off as he entered the school each year. On occasion, however, it would come up. He would be accused of dark magic, some student would approach him and awkwardly, though angrily say that his grandparents had, at one point, tortured theirs, or something of that nature. What could he do? That’s the price he paid for coming from a family such as his own. Ravenclaw.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Albus Potter, fifth year. He was confident, and one can be confident and likeable at the same time. In fact, the two often go together hand in hand, certainly in his case. While he certainly wasn’t the most popular student in the school, while he most certainly didn’t know everyone in his year, let alone the school, he had his friends, and strong ones at that. And he was well liked. He was sweet, kind, loveable. That was who he was. He was just someone who was always there for anyone who needed him. He was a resource as well as just a really great friend. And sometimes, that’s the best thing for someone to be. Hufflepuff.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Teddy Lupin was a loud and beyond well-liked seventh year. He was probably the most interesting person in the entire school and everyone wanted to be his friend. He was a musician, an incredible wizard, and a metamorphagus. He knew how much everyone loved him, and he played it like a professional. This didn’t make him a bad person in any use of the word. He cared about real things, his schoolwork, his family, his boyfriend James. He was down-to-earth, real. He made everyone feel important. People just seemed to gravitate towards him. And who could blame them? Gryffindor.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Victoire Weasley had her mother to thank for her beauty. Well, at the very least her great-grandmother. She was stunning. Absolutely stunning. She had men and women alike drooling at her feet. Not that any of that really mattered to her. She had bigger things in mind for herself. Her mother, in her opinion, had taken the easy path. She had played her beauty to find a husband and settled down, never really needing much again after that. No, none of that for Victoire. She wanted to make herself someone. She would be something. An auror at the ministry, a great leader, a famous wandmaker, who knows, maybe even a Minister of Magic. She would be someone. Maybe to marry at some point, maybe never to marry, she didn’t care. She was her own person. Slytherin.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
James Potter was quiet. He was very large physically, but hardly filled that with a personality to match. He would often slink off into a corner and disappear. He was a magnificent wizard, clearly capable of great magic, but never showed off, never overstayed his welcome in conversation. His boyfriend, Teddy, was almost the polar opposite of him. People would ask why they were together, and he would simply reply “He’s the side of me I’ve always wanted, but could never have.” He had this weird way of managing to express exactly what he thought with his words. He didn’t twist what he thought and spit it out as a jumble of vocalized vomit, but instead, managed to take his thoughts and say them cleanly, plainly, and beautifully. His words held a place in the air after he said them and hung there before they disappeared, and everyone felt as if they wanted to hear every word he ever said, because his words could change people. His words could change generations. Gryffindor.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
These are what the stories we have known have left behind. These are the loose ends that need tying. These are the stories that were never told. Each person here has a story that someone needed to tell. But I think it would be better if they just told it themselves. If we listened while they lived their stories. While they created their lives.


End file.
